Tryout
by MGMK
Summary: Maya-verse. Babysitting attempt number two...it's like a trial run or something.


**Disclaimer: **Don't own. Just borrowing.

**Author's Note #1:** This has been sitting around in my computer for a long time and I wasn't exactly sure where in the timeline it falls so I just decided to post it. Hopefully I can get back into the swing of things.

**Author's Note #2:** For the sake of entertainment, we're just going to disregard the fact that certain valuable items were hiding in plain view. That's a very obscure statement, but, then again, I don't want to give too much away.

* * *

Santana watches Brittany go through the routine for a third time, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised doing absolutely nothing to conceal the fact that she's turned on.

"…and four and five and six," Brittany counts out, her body coming to a dead stop, allowing her enough time to connect eyes with Santana through the mirror.

"Okay, guys, maybe we can take thirty," Brittany mumbles, catching the other dancers off guard entirely.

They'd just started.

"Make that a full hour," Santana amends, directing her attention to everyone else so as not to give anything away.

It's Tim the co-choreographer, of course, that knows it all though, filing out of the studio behind everyone else as he towels off his brow. He looks at Brittany and then Santana, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Mmmhmm," is all he says, laughing when Santana swats at him in annoyance.

"San," Brittany whispers, sidling up closely to her wife, "You've got to stop with the bedroom eyes in the studio. Your dancers are never going to get this stuff down in time for the tour."

Santana shrugs, draping her arms around Brittany's shoulders and pulling her even closer. "It's not my fault you're so damn hot."

Brittany smirks, turning her face to the side so that Santana gets all cheek instead of the lips she was aiming for. "An hour?"

"Maybe more if you don't stop teasing," Santana grumbles, placing her palms over Brittany's cheeks to keep her face forward this time when she leans back in.

They share a few deep kisses, both women quickly forgetting themselves as they get more wrapped up in one another. "I love this," Brittany mumbles, breathing out through her nose. "Working together was like, the best idea ever."

"Mmm," Santana mumbles, already devoid of her ability to speak.

That is…until Brittany's phone starts vibrating against her hip.

"Fuck," she curses, pulling away abruptly.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asks, perplexed.

"Your phone," Santana sighs but Brittany only shrugs, pulling her wife back to her again.

"Who cares?" Brittany murmurs. "Ignore it."

And they do, until Santana's phone starts to go off.

Their lips part with a wet smack, Brittany groaning in annoyance this time. "Whoever it is, get rid of them," she says, deciding to wait by sucking on the skin of Santana's neck. "Quick."

Santana swallows down her desire for a moment, an amazing feat considering the position she's in currently. "'lo," she answers, phone pressed to her ear.

"_Santana?_"

Santana sighs, her eyes rolling back in her head momentarily as Brittany finds that particularly sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

"_Santana? Is that you?"_

"Yessss," Santana hisses, then clears her throat. "Yeah, it's me."

"_Where is Brittany? I've been calling you guys for the last half an hour. I even called the house phone_."

The urgency finally cuts through Santana's haze and she opens her eyes. "Jamie?"

"_Yes, what the hell is wrong with you? Where's Britt? There's been… *static*…mergency_."

"Jamie," Santana says, tugging Brittany away from her as gently as she can manage so that she can finally, fully concentrate on the phone call. "What are you saying? You're breaking up."

"_It's MeeMaw_," Jamie tries to speak clearly, "_She's in the hospital and the doctors say Britt should get here soon._"

Santana gasps, finally grasping the meaning behind the phone call. "We'll be there as soon as we can," she tells Brittany's sister, hanging up the phone and swallowing thickly as she takes in her annoyed and still flustered wife. "Oh Britt-Britt," she barely manages to whisper, her eyes growing watery.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asks, instantly worried. "Is James okay?"

"She's fine," Santana manages, taking Brittany's hand into her own to comfort her. "It's your Grandma."

* * *

"_I really wish I could Mrs. P but I've got exams this week_," Brody's voice says sadly across the line.

"It's okay Brody," Santana assures him, "I know it's short notice."

"_Still, I feel bad_," Brody adds, glumly. "_Hey, can you let the other Mrs. P know I'm praying for her and her family?_"

"Of course. And stop with the Mrs. P, thing, you weirdo," Santana grouses lightly. "It's Brittany and Santana."

"_Okay_," Brody laughs. "_Sorry again_."

"It's okay, knucklehead," Santana says, hanging up the phone. She turns and finds Brittany's long form stretched out on the couch beside her, Maya asleep and snuggled against Brittany's boobs.

"No luck?" Brittany asks, though Santana knows she already knows the answer.

Santana shakes her head, and runs through their scenario again. "Quinn and Puck can't take her because Eli's got a fever and Sam and Mercedes can't take her because they're out of town. My folks are too far away to drive to now. Kurt's off in Europe somewhere, planning that monstrosity of a wedding we'll soon be attending and Blaine is not allowed to handle Maya solo, or so you said. Mike can't get a flight back in soon enough and the same goes for Artie and Tina. And now, Brody, like we thought, is out of commission," she rattles off, turning to Brittany with a somber expression on her face. "You know what we have to do."

Brittany brings her hand up to cradle Maya's head protectively. "No," she protests, shaking her head profusely. "I can't willingly do that to my own child."

"We don't really have a choice, Brittany."

"Yes we do," Brittany refutes. "We can bring her with."

"To a hospital," Santana deadpans. "A hospital where your grandma is…Brittany, we agreed we weren't going to put her through that yet."

Brittany sniffles a bit, looking down sadly. "I know."

Santana allows a beat or two to pass. "So…"

"Fine," Brittany says, quickly as if ripping a Band-Aid off a fresh wound. "Make the call."

But before Santana can press a single button, the phone goes off in her hand.

"Hello…hi Rachel, I was just getting ready to call you…no, I really was…oh God, Rachel I said I was get over it…Stop…Rachel, stop…Hey, hobbit! Quit yapping I have a favor to ask you…"

* * *

"We'll be absolutely fine, Santana, I promise," Rachel says into the phone, cradling a mug of hot tea in her hands.

"No, she's still asleep," she adds, walking past the guest kids' room where Maya's sleeping soundly in a large pink canopy bed; across the room is a blue racecar one. "What do you mean, 'you can't believe we have a room for you guys' kids', of course we do. Just for instances like these."

"You just worry about taking care of Brittany, I'll make sure to return your little girl to you exactly how you left her." Rachel scoffs. "I'm not going to say that, Santana…I'm not. It's so crass…Okay, how about this? I promise you that I will return Maya in mint condition and if upon your reunion you find her unsatisfactory you are then afforded the right to break my face…Well, no, _you _wouldn't say it quite like that but I made it more grammatically correct… We'll be totally okay, Santana. I promise to call if anything happens. Now go and look after Brittany…Okay…._Okay_…Bye."

"Wow," Rachel breathes, finally ending the call, "And I thought Brittany was overprotective."

"Rachey?" Maya mumbles, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes with her little fists.

"Oh yes," Rachel says, hurrying over to the girl's bedside. "Is there something you needed little one?"

Maya's fists fall down to the bed with a light thud and she blinks up at Rachel, a small frown in place. "Where Mama?"

"Sweetheart, your Moms had to go away for a little bit but hey, look," Rachel explains brightly, holding up her stuffed toy, "I have Mr. Winklevasser."

Maya makes a grabbing motion with her hands and Rachel hands her the toy, grinning when Maya snatches it away.

"Rachey?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Where Mama?"

* * *

"Hey Maya," Finn says, smiling down at the little girl glaring up at him. "Wanna play peek-a-boo?"

"No," Maya says firmly, stomping her foot.

"What about hide and seek?"

This time the little girl just shakes her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Maya waits a second longer, eyeing him so that he gets the seriousness of her next point before she explodes. "I want Mommies!"

"Rachel!" Finn calls out warily. "It's getting a little hairy in here."

"I'm trying, honey!" Rachel calls back, frantically going through YouTube videos on calming children having tantrums and combing through the many books she's procured on being a good caregiver – books she'd procured way back when Santana first announced her pregnancy but never told anyone about because she thought it would be creepy.

"Have you tried speaking to her in a calm, soothing tone?" Rachel asks, but gets no answer. "Finn?"

Worried, she pushes away from the desk, padding quickly to the playroom she'd left Maya and Finn in only to find him sitting Indian style on the floor, Maya standing on his thighs and combing her fingers through his hair carefully.

"What in the-" Rachel starts to ask but Finn quiets her with the look on his face.

"Apparently, I need a makeover," Finn says, not looking too thrilled at the prospect but Maya's quieted now, and is grinning as she tugs a little more forcefully than necessary at Finn's hair and Rachel's nothing if not an opportunist.

"Let me get my make up kit."

* * *

Santana shifts slightly when her phone beeps, and Brittany murmurs beside her having fallen asleep shortly after they'd gotten back from the hospital room.

(MeeMaw is resting, but the doctors said to stay close-by should her condition worsen.)

She slips her phone out of her jacket pocket, sliding her thumb across the screen to open the message and then trying and failing to stifle a snort of laughter.

Brittany's eyes pop open, peeking up at her wife curiously from where she's lying on her shoulder. "What?"

"Sorry," Santana whispers while dropping a kiss to the top of Brittany's head. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"I'm not sleepy," Brittany lies, blinking. "What're you laughing at?"

"Well, judging by the texts before it, Rachel and Finn were having a little trouble with Maya, but…" she trails off, loading the picture Rachel sent her and holding it up for Brittany to see "…apparently they worked it out."

Brittany brings a hand up to her mouth to keep from laughing aloud like she wants to; still, her shoulders jiggle up and down with her muted giggles as she glimpses Finn's overly made up face, his short hair adorned with far too many bows and ribbons, with the words 'crisis averted' spelled out underneath as a caption.

* * *

"I can't believe you took a picture Rachel," Finn mumbles, letting Maya jump up and down on his lap.

He's pretty sure she considers him a human jungle gym.

"Oh, but you look so pretty," Rachel grins at him, putting her phone back away.

"Uncy Finn pwetty," Maya echoes, sloppily giving him a kiss on the cheek and making him laugh.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, patting the little girl on the back. "You're lucky you're cute. Both of you."

* * *

"Hey, babe," Finn calls, zipping up his work suit, and moving toward the sound of a giggling toddler, "I've got to go to the shop for a couple of hours. Do you think you'll be al-"

Finn trails off, completely blown away by the sight of his…Rachel sitting with the little girl on her lap, happily going through their Glee club scrapbook.

"Look Finn," Rachel gushes, sounding every bit the proud aunt that she is. "She's so smart. Who is this, Maya?" she asks, pointing at a picture of Quinn.

"That Coo," Maya grins, proudly.

"That's right, Maya," Finn says with a laugh, pointing at another picture. "And who's this guy right here?"

Maya giggles, her chubby cheeks dimpled. "Sammy," she answers, sounding shy.

"That's pretty impressive," Finn comments. "With all that hair he looks like Quinn in that pic. So, are you going to be okay if I leave for a bit? I'll be back in an hour, two tops."

"We'll be fine, Finn. We're _bonding_," Rachel says, hugging Maya tighter to her.

Finn chuckles, grabbing his scarf. "Okay, well, just call me if you need me," he tells her, opening the door. "Bye Maya."

"Bye-bye Uncy Finn," Maya says, waving her hand at him.

"Now, let's see who else we have," Rachel says, turning the page. "Ooh, ooh, look Maya. I know you know who those two are."

Maya looks down and follows Rachel's pointer finger to the snapshot and her lower lip wobbles when she recognizes the persons in it.

Rachel clueless, just leans her face closer to Maya's head. "C'mon Maya, you can do it," she encourages lightly, unprepared when Maya suddenly snaps her head back in a silent cry, the crown of her head connecting squarely with Rachel's lower lip.

"Ow!" Rachel yells, holding onto Maya with one hand and her mouth with the other as Maya wails.

"I WANT MOMMIES!"

* * *

Rachel dials Quinn frantically, still holding the ice pack to her lip throbbing lip.

She's stemmed the bleeding, but her lip still hurts horribly so, and even though Maya's still in the other room with Finn and screaming up a storm, she refuses to admit defeat by calling Brittany and Santana.

Calling Quinn and Puck is totally fair game, though.

"_Hello_," Quinn answers tiredly after four rings.

"Quinn," Rachel practically shouts out, "Quinn, thank God. I need your assistance."

"_Rachel? Rachel, why are you talking like that_?" Quinn asks, and now Rachel can make out the sounds of a crying baby on her end.

"Sorry," Rachel lisps, wincing as she pulls the ice pack away. "Is this better?"

"_Yeah, at least I can understand you now_," Quinn says, annoyance creeping into her tone as Elijah ups his volume. "_Noah, stop doing that. You're making it worse. Rachel, I'm not trying to be short with you, I swear, but if you have a question, you need to ask it now_."

Rachel hesitates, but then surges onward. "I was wondering if you could give me some advice on how to quiet Maya. You see, she's been asking for Brittany and Santana and no matter what Finn and I d-"

"_Are you serious_?!" Quinn nearly shouts. "_Rachel, do you not hear the howling monkey that is my son in the background? I can't get my own damn kid to quiet down and you're asking me to help you calm down Maya_?!"

Rachel flinches at the nasally pitch to Quinn's voice, not wanting to answer, unsure if that was a rhetorical question or not.

"Yes?" Rachel says/asks in a small voice, almost scared of the response she'll receive expecting psycho, pink-haired Quinn from high school to make an appearance but, to her surprise, there is no response, only a solid thud and then muted cries.

"Quinn?" Rachel questions worriedly. "Quinn, are you okay?"

"_Hey, Rachel? Um, I don't know what you said to Quinn but I would hold off on calling her again for a little while, okay? She's like purple with rage over here_," Puck says, ending the call before Rachel can ask him for help.

"Okay," Rachel sighs, hearing Maya kick it up a notch. "On to plan B."

* * *

"So, we haven't got a clue on how to quiet her and we've tried everything."

"_I'm sorry Rachel but I can't help you_," Mercedes explains, "_Sam's been sobbing on the floor for the last half hour_."

"Why? What happened?"

"_He and Jackson were having a little father/son bonding time and one of Sam's dolls may have gotten messed up_."

"_It's not a doll Mercedes_," Sam speaks up in the background. "_They're collectible action figures and he maimed it. He maimed it in a midget Asian rage_."

"_Don't say midget Asian rage, it's racist. And we can buy a new one, Sam_."

"_Not the point_."

"Rachel," Finn says, walking up slowly with his hands up in defense. "Before you get mad, remember that I love you and am planning on spending the rest of my life with you."

"Mercedes I have to go," Rachel says slowly, eyeing Finn as she ends the call. "What did you do?"

"She was crying and she wanted it and I have no idea how she got the Magic Eraser, I swear."

"What are you-" Rachel starts to ask but before she can finish her question, Maya steps out from behind Finn, a CD case in her tiny hands.

"All kean now," Maya announces proudly, waving the album around enough that Rachel can't quite make out the title, but she has a sickening hunch.

"Finn, is that-"

"Your autographed Streisand CD?" Finn supplies with a wince. "Um...I guess, technically not anymore."

* * *

"Do you think you're gonna make it?" Santana asks Brittany quietly, turning the car off.

"I'll be okay," Brittany smiles wanly, squeezing the hand Santana's holding onto. "I just really need to see my Pumpkin."

"Okay," Santana nods, bringing their joined hands up to kiss the back of Brittany's. She exits the car, waiting at the curb until Brittany joins her and they both stride up the walkway, holding hands as they walk side by side.

Halfway up, Santana bumps her hip against Brittany's, trying to infuse a little levity into her girl and Brittany's smile is a little less sad when she bumps her back, playfully.

They climb up the steps of the familiar house, and Brittany uses her key – all decked out in in glitter and gold stars – and opens the door, not knowing what she's going to find because judging by the texts they'd gotten from Mercedes and Puck, Maya had proven to be quite the handful.

But, alas, the house is quiet, and though there are more items strewn across the floor than they're accustomed to seeing in the Hudson/Berry household, everything is more or less in its place.

And there they find their friends, Rachel and Finn, sitting next to one another on the floor and leaned against their living room couch, oblivious to the world around them as they sleep, Maya slumped between them both, a tiny arm wrapped around each of theirs.

"I gotta get a record of this," Santana says, pulling out her cellphone and taking a quick snapshot. "Should we wake them?" Santana asks, keeping her voice quiet.

"Nah," Brittany whispers, finding the loveseat and kicking off her shoes. "Let's let them rest."

Santana shuffles over to her wife and deposits herself in her lap, wrapping herself around Brittany as comfortably as she can.

"Comfy there, San?" Brittany asks, mumbling into Santana's boobs.

"Mmmhmm," Santana nods while raking her fingers through Brittany's hair, stifling a laugh when Brittany lightly slaps her on the ass.

"Shh," Brittany warns, cutting her eyes over to the couch when Rachel's breathing hitches for a second.

"Santana? Brittany?" Rachel says sleepily, not opening her eyes. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, Rach," Santana whispers back. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmmkay," Rachel says, still half asleep. "But try not have ladysex on the furniture okay? It's new."


End file.
